


Night Song

by Riain



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Dark Magic, Gen, Native American Character(s), Spirit World
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-19 17:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1477798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riain/pseuds/Riain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth couldn't live without him. As he died beside her, she refused to take it as his final moments. Begging a medicine woman to call upon the spirit world to bring him back to her, Beth never could have imagined how high the stakes were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I've been toying with that formed from a gif set someone posted on Tumblr. It *could* be construed as an alternate ending to another one of my completed stories, but I like to think of it as a story all it's own. Don't know how long it will be, really depends on what the comments say.
> 
> And yes, before anyone starts getting grumpy, I am still working on Respectfully, CMC Dixon. It's not the sole story in my archive at the moment, that's for sure.
> 
> I've been writing things as they come to me, as I am able to after what has happened. I don't want to lose great story ideas, so I'm working on them as they come to me.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this, and please leave a comment if you do! It will let me know if I should continue this or just retire it.

Beth was limp in the arms of Nathan Has No Horse, Natalie Crow Dog following close on his heels. Nathan laid Beth on one of the pallets on the floor of the sweat lodge. Beth’s eyes shot open as the pain returned to her stomach,  Natalie’s warm hands felt the solid bump of her belly.

            “Nathan, go get Mary now!” Natalie yelled, making the young man turn and run. Within minutes he returned, cradling the mother of the tribe to his chest. He set the elder woman down next to Beth, her gnarled hands running over Beth’s face.

            “I think she’s going into labor Grandmother, we have to prepare for the birth.” Natalie’s voice carried through the lodge, as Beth bit back another scream.

            “We shall see daughter. I do not think it is time. May has many moons to pass yet.” Mary brought her hands to rest on Beth’s swollen belly, feeling the baby kick.

            Sweat formed on Beth’s forehead as the sharp pains continued. She groaned through the pain, feeling Mary’s fingers trailing up her leg beneath the cotton dress. Beth gasped in shock, feeling the old woman checking her as much she would a cow or horse.

            “No it is not time for the baby. Bring her cool water and rags. Keep her calm and still. Cool her skin with the water. She can rest here for a time.” Mary shook her head before turning to shuffle away.

            Natalie took Beth’s hand, wiping sweat from her brow. “I’ll be back in a little bit. Just rest ok?”

            Beth nodded, swallowing down the fear that her baby would be born premature and not live to see the daylight. She was worried for Daryl to be out hunting, especially with the night coming soon. Beth watched the sun paint the sky in pink and orange hues through the hole in the top of the lodge roof. Seeing that beautiful change in the day brought a sense of calm to her soul, the pain was slowly ebbing away.

            Natalie had returned with the cool rags, wiping down any part of Beth’s skin that was exposed. Beth shivered at the cool water on her collarbone, Natalie smiled.

            “Feeling better?” Her voice was quiet in the silence of the medicine lodge.

            “A little. Just worried about Daryl. It’s getting on evening.” Beth couldn’t hide the concern in her voice, even if she tried.

            “He’ll be fine, he’s with Joe. Joe won’t let anything happen to him.” Natalie assured Beth as she wiped down the young mother’s hands and wrists.

* * *

 

            A commotion rose outside the lodge, Natalie turned on her heels to see what was raising such a fuss outside the hide door.

            Joe Red Cloud burst through the door, carrying Daryl in his arms. Dark red  blood seeped between Joe’s fingers, staining the ground underfoot.

            “Lay him down over there, I’ll go get Mary.” Natalie directed as Beth’s head turned to see what was going on. Natalie dashed out of the lodge, looking for Nathan to carry Mary back to tend to Daryl.

            “Daryl!” Beth screeched, rolling off the pallet and crawling over to her husband. Beth saw Daryl’s eyes open slowly, as Joe pressed his hands to the hunter’s torn shirt.

            “Hey sweetheart.” Daryl croaked through bloodied lips as his hand came to rest on Beth’s burgeoning belly.

            “Daryl, don’t die on me. Don’t you leave me!” Beth cried through the tears streaking down her cheeks.

            “Ain’t planning to. Gotta see my son born.” Daryl struggled to breathe as Mary pushed Beth aside.

            Beth watched as Mary tore Daryl’s shirt open, her old eyes flickering over the gashes across Daryl’s abdomen. Beth tried not to gag, the sight of the wounds making her want to vomit. She held on to Daryl’s hand, listening to him struggle to breathe.

            Mary called out orders in Sioux, Beth having no idea what she was saying. Within minutes Nathan and Joe appeared with a bone needle, an odd colored thread and a bowl steaming with herbs.

            “You will help me save his life. It is your duty as his wife girl.” Mary took Beth’s hands in hers, pressing them to Daryl’s stomach. Beth took a deep breath, trying to not retch at the smell and feel of her man’s blood coating her hands. Daryl’s eyes caught Beth’s, the corner of his lips turned up in a smirk.

            Daryl laid his bloody hand against Beth’s cheek, “Baby don’t worry I’ll be okay.” Tears flowed down Beth’s cheeks as she nodded.

            “Be strong Beth. Be here now.” Daryl whispered, watching Beth’s face turn up in a tight smile.

            “Here,” Mary pressed herbs into Beth’s hands, “Put these in the wounds as I sew.”

            Beth pulled back the flaps of serrated flesh, stuffing the boiling herbs into the wounds. Mary followed behind her, sewing the two halves of skin together with a thread that smelled like herbs and salts.  Daryl cried out as the pain surged through his body, his eyes closing as his hand fell to his side.

            Beth panicked, shaking Daryl’s shoulder violently. “DARYL! Oh God! DARYL!”

            Mary’s aged hands finished sewing Daryl together, before the medicine woman looked up at Beth with sad eyes.

            “He has crossed the river. There is nothing else that can be done for him. You must rest.” The words sounded so final, and Beth wasn’t taking that for an answer. The crowd of people skirted out of the lodge, to give Beth privacy with Daryl’s body.

            “No! You’re a medicine woman, you can bring him back. You have that power, I’ve heard the stories about what medicine men and women can do. Please. Bring him back.” Beth pleaded with Mary, knowing that the chance still stood she would say no.

            Mary patted Beth’s cheek, a grimace crossing her wrinkled features. “Child, even if the spirits granted him to return to you, he would not be the same as he was before. Do you wish that for yourself, for your child that you carry?”

            Beth didn’t hesitate, “Yes! I would have him with me; have him hold our son when he is born than live this life without him. Anything to have him back with me!” She knew that her answer was selfish, but she couldn’t see herself without him in life. Daryl was her heart, Daryl was her soul. Without him she was only half of a person, Beth didn’t want to be alone.

            Mary nodded gravely, stooping to start a fire in the center of the lodge. “Be careful what you wish for girl.” The fire slowly came to life as Mary began to chat, her hands moving with the words as the flames licked higher towards the sky.

* * *

 

            Beth knelt by Daryl’s side, holding his hand in hers. She noticed his blood covering the ring he had given her that morning. Beth wrenched it off her finger, cleaning it on the hem of her dress.

            Mary’s eyes turned to Beth as her voice carried through the lodge out into the cool night air. Beth swore that the old woman’s eyes glowed in the firelight.

            “His shirt. Throw it in the fire.” Mary commanded as Beth’s hands shook setting to purpose.

            “I don’t understand, why do you need his shirt?” Beth squeaked out as she struggled to free the shirt from Daryl’s lifeless body. His skin was still warm, if it hadn’t been for the absence of his chest rising and falling, Beth could have been duped that Daryl was still alive.

            “There is nothing I could tell you that you would understand.” Mary’s glowing eyes bored through Beth, causing the young woman to shudder. The medicine woman’s voice took on a deeper tone that rose to a fevered pitch as the words of the incantation came to a close.

            “The shirt, now.” Mary insisted, making Beth jump. She wrung the torn button up shirt in her hands before throwing it into the flames. The fire crackled and rose, as the shirt began to disintegrate. Beth shivered in the stifling heat of the lodge, a chill caressing her skin.

            Mary began to chant, throwing herbs and salts into the fire, the flames blazed higher towards the hole in the lodge roof. Beth’s gaze transfixed on the blued flames as familiar images took shape in the space between her and the flames. She could see images of her family on the farm, of her father tending to the livestock. Her brother Sean materialized; he was helping Daddy plant the fields, driving the tractor. Maggie came riding through the pasture on a horse as Annette cooked dinner in the kitchen. It was as if Beth was watching over her mother’s shoulder through the kitchen window of the old farmhouse that was now a burned out ruin.

            The images shifted to when Daryl came to the farm. Beth watched as Daryl hunted to feed the farm and he stole glances at her when he thought no one was looking. She blushed as the images morphed into their time at the house in Kentucky. Their desire for each other was evident in the touches and looks shared in the bedroom. Beth’s hands fell to her belly, seeing with new eyes the exact moment the life taking shape within her was conceived.  The last few weeks of the house on the Rez passed Beth’s eyes in quick flashes, almost like cards being shuffled.

            Nausea rolled through her stomach, Beth swallowed to keep from throwing up. The images dissipated into the flames as Mary’s voice slowed to a stop. Beth glanced over to the old woman, hoping that the spell was complete, that Daryl was alive.

* * *

 

            “You need to give up something of yours girl, it is part of the ritual.” Mary’s eyes fell to the ring on the blonde’s finger; tears welled in Beth’s eyes as she shook her head.

            “I can’t.” The words came out a hoarse whisper. “Is there anything else I can give up?”  Beth wracked her brain, thinking of the things she had with her that she could part with.

            “Choose quickly.” Mary prodded as Beth struggled to act quickly. She couldn’t give up her locket; it was the only thing she had left of her family. She couldn’t give up the ring Daryl had made her, it meant too much to her. Beth reached up and unclasped the diamond earrings Daryl had given her for her nineteenth birthday when they were still living at the prison. She had forgotten about them; it didn’t dawn on her then the reason why he had given them to her. Now it all made sense. Beth handed the earrings to Mary, who tossed them into the fire as words began to fill the air.

            Beth turned to look at Daryl; he still wasn’t showing any signs of life, tears welled in her eyes looking at his body. She sent a prayer up to whoever was listening that they bring him back to her, hoping they would heed her prayer. Mary’s bony hand clamped down on Beth’s shoulder, making Beth startle.

            “It is time for you to go home girl. If the spirits have answered your plea he will return home to you.” Mary herded Beth out of the lodge, closing the hide flap behind her.

            Beth stared at the door to the lodge, her emotions churning inside her. She didn’t know if she believed in spirit medicine, or miracles for that matter. But if Daryl came back to her, she wouldn’t second guess anything in life again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you all know, I did see ortho today. The NP is calling it definitely whiplash at this point. She has scheduled me for another visit with the doctor, physical therapy, put me on a stronger dosage of medication and has written a letter to my school suggesting that I take a medical leave of absence. I can tell you all now that I'm tired of hurting, tired of the constant headaches and wish this was over so life could get back to normal. Please folks, don't text and drive. Whatever it is you have to say can wait until you are done driving. Nothing that phone can show you is important enough to risk yours or other people's lives for. This has been a PSA by Riain. Thank you and goodnight!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the bullshit of the MSF prompted me to start writing on this story again... I can honestly say I have missed writing my own stuff these last five months of college. Now it is Christmas break, so I will have plenty of time to write now.

Beth slept fitfully; she couldn’t erase the thoughts running through her mind of Daryl dying in her arms. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she cradled the life they created in her hands. The bed was too big, and Daryl’s side was cold and empty. Beth pulled his pillow to her chest, burying her nose in the soft fabric. She could smell him, the woodsy, earthy scent she always associated with him faint in the threads of cotton. She had to live for their child; this was her life now, living day by day. Daryl was her world; he gave her life and purpose when she had nothing left to live for. Beth struggled to wrap her mind around the things Mary did in the medicine lodge, it was something completely different from her Christian beliefs. When someone died, she was taught to believe that their soul left the physical body and arrived at the pearly gates to request admittance to St. Peter. This ideal of someone dying and then praying to different gods and spirts for their spirit to be sent back to their body and their life spared was something completely different. Beth hoped that the gods and spirits would heed her request and send her husband back to her whole. Praying brought her solace; her eyes slid shut as her breath evened out with the well-known whispered words. Sleep claimed her, putting her body at ease for the moment.

          A cool breeze blew through the window of the bedroom, caressing Beth’s skin, a slight shiver waking her from sleep. She smells the heavy scent of coffee brewing in the kitchen; shaking her head that Daryl must’ve set the timer for the same time every day, one less thing to do. Beth uncurls herself from Daryl’s pillow, his scent still lingering in the fabric. Hauling herself out of the bed into the bathroom, her ears prick at the sound of the sink in the kitchen running water. It is then that she knows someone is in the house, her heart beginning to pound in her chest. The anxiety made Beth quickly finish her business in the bathroom, before going into the bedroom for Daryl’s spare Glock in his nightstand. The heavy weight of the .40 was comforting; knowing that whomever was in her house would be leaving very quickly at the sight of the gun. She tiptoed through the living room, hearing movement around the kitchen. Her heart beat fast at the surge of adrenaline and fear; she was on her own, Daryl wasn’t here to keep the house safe anymore. Beth knew she could do it; she was strong, she’d taken down walkers. Hell, she had even killed other humans to keep those she loved safe.

          Beth’s heart dropped as the gun clattered to the kitchen floor, a sob choked back between her lips. Daryl stood in the kitchen, his short hair crusted with blood, sticking out at odd angles, shirtless. The sutures running across his abdomen were angry red, but he didn’t act like he was in pain. His jeans were still bloody from the night before, but when his eyes met hers, the hollowness held her back.

          Daryl snarled at the very pregnant blonde woman standing in his kitchen. While he felt like he knew her from somewhere, he couldn’t place her. Why was she in his house? Why did she have a gun in her hand? He wanted answers, and he had no problem asking the questions. This girl looked like she was about to cry, her eyes scanned every inch of him with pure amazement, as if she had never seen a man standing in the kitchen drinking coffee before. It made him uncomfortable, he hated people seeing his scars. He didn’t think when he walked home from Mary’s medicine lodge shortly before day break that someone else would be in his house. The run through the chill of the Black Hills spring morning refreshed him, reminding him that he was still alive. The only thing that ached was the suture line of catgut across his stomach. It was a pain he could live with, and as bad as the wound looked, it had to have a helluva a story to go with it. He couldn’t take his eyes off the girl leaning against the archway, she looked like she was about to break down from fright.

          “Who the fuck are ya standing in my kitchen?” He couldn’t help the anger in his voice, he wasn’t a people person and strangers were not his strong suit. He watched as her hands began to tremble, tears welled in the girl’s eyes as she slowly sank to the kitchen floor. Even as pregnant as she was, she was beautiful, in a sad sort of way. Daryl made no move to help her up, he didn’t like touching people or being touched.

          Beth took deep breaths as her emotions rolled over her like a storm. Mary had said he would be different; this was not what Beth was expecting. Daryl was alive, whole, except for his memories of her. He had no idea who she was, the recognition wasn’t there, and Beth could see it in his eyes. She was a stranger to him, and he was breaking her heart. After all they had been through, all they had shared and loved the last year, it was gone like the dew of the morning on the plains grass.

          Remembering how Daryl was when he came to the farm, Beth treaded the water between them carefully. Her voice came out nearly a whisper as she struggled to keep herself together. Weakness was one thing Daryl hated, Beth chose her words carefully.

          “I’m Beth. We’ve been on the run since our home at the prison in Georgia fell almost a year ago now. Before we got here we lived at a farm in Kentucky, where we conceived our baby,” Beth cradled her belly protectively, seeing Daryl’s eyes narrow at the sight. “Then you chose for us to come here, and we came in the pickup sitting outside. The dog you’re petting? He’s ours, his name is Eros. We rescued him from a truck stop in Missouri on the way here. We took refuge in a Cabela’s in Mitchell, SD the night before we arrived here, I’d fell ill with altitude sickness and you didn’t want to press on. You begged Charlie to let us stay here, and he almost said no until your Grandmother Mary revealed that I was pregnant. We’ve been here ever since. You asked me to marry you the morning you went on the hunt. It’s why I have this ring you made me.”

          Beth’s hand slowly rose from the fabric of her nightgown, the pink porcupine quill ring catching Daryl’s keen eyesight. Beth shuddered as she breathed, silent tears staining her cheeks. The story of them came out in rush, Beth watched Daryl hoping something, anything, she said would click. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until Daryl set the coffee cup he was drinking from on the countertop none too gently, causing Beth to jump.

          “Beth, I don’t know if what you are telling me is the truth. My wife died almost six years ago with my son in her belly during an ice storm. Everything I think I know is hazy, even Mary telling me to go home to my wife this morning seems like bullshit!” Daryl roared, his voice bouncing off the walls of the tiny kitchen. He couldn’t remember the last two days, much less the last year. Puzzle pieces started sliding in place when Beth mentioned the prison, he remembered running through smoke and fire to save who he could, he remembered wise old Hershel being beheaded. But as far as any of the other details       Beth provided, it just wasn’t there.

          Beth's mouth dropped open, the last time he had spoken to her in anger was the night she accidentally hit him with the spoon in Kentucky. This wasn't her Daryl, this was a stranger standing in their kitchen. She could feel her heart breaking, Beth didn't know if she could start over with this Daryl. Did she have the courage to work through everything over the last few years again, and hope that he would fall back in love with her? Or would she just take their child and leave? But the question then would be—where could (or would) she go? She had few friends on the rez, even fewer outside the rez. Her sister, Glenn, Rick and all the other people she knew were gone, dead for all she knew when the prison was attacked.

          Daryl shook his head, his fingertips lightly grazing over the sutures in his gut. He tried to wrap his head around the story Beth told; why would she say those things if they weren't true? He couldn't see himself sleeping with her, she was out of his league-- the kid couldn't be his. He was just some redneck asshole stuck in hell with his guts aching on fire. She wasn't that old; shit, if he was honest with himself, he was damn near double her age. He just couldn’t see himself sleeping with her, she was too innocent, too pure for someone like him. But he couldn’t deny the heavy swell of her belly, it made up most of her slim frame.

"Fuck this. I'm going out. I ain't gonna throw you outta my house tonight with you being pregnant and all. But you can't stay here. I gotta figure shit out." Daryl huffed, sliding past Beth to get a shower and clean clothes on. Walking through his bedroom, Daryl noticed the one side of the bed was rumpled, and women’s clothes on the bedroom floor. He pulled fresh clothes out of the closet, seeing more women’s clothes hanging in the closet. A woman definitely lived here, whether his dead wife or Beth was still debatable.

* * *

 

The bathroom clued him in even more that maybe Beth was telling the truth that she indeed did live in his house. Between the hairbrush full of blonde hair, the blue toothbrush, feminine lotions and soaps in the bathroom, not to mention the pre-natal vitamins on the counter, all screamed female in the male’s den. Daryl scrubbed shampoo through his hair, the pieces still slowly sliding together like a puzzle in a bowl of water. Was Beth his wife? Mary had mentioned that his wife was waiting at home for him, and now here was Beth at his house, very pregnant and wearing a ring claimed to have been given to her by him. He needed to get out of the house; he needed to clear his head, the forest across the bridge calling him with its siren song. Daryl dried off in the steamy bathroom, dressing before the heat dissipated. Stalking through the house, he found Beth folding baby clothes in the nursery. She was humming to herself as she lovingly folded a blanket before putting it on the shelf.

Daryl watched her for a few minutes; his curiosity peaked as she moved around the room comfortably. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck before clearing his throat.

“Ah, I’m gonna go out and hunt for a bit. I’ll be back before nightfall hopefully. You gonna be okay here by yourself?” Daryl was worried about Beth being at the house pregnant by herself, more than anything else. This world was a harsh one; everyone needed protecting at some point or another.

“I’ll be fine. Do you need your bow? I have no idea where it would be. Maybe you should ask Joe? He was with you when the accident happened. I know your rifle is here and your pistol. I can handle myself, thanks for asking.” Beth glanced over at Daryl, seeing him cleaned up, as he was the morning before he left, made Beth think that the other night in the lodge was just a dream. She couldn’t go on lying to herself like that, she had to keep moving forward, and the first step was getting the house in order. Beth finished folding the baby clothes forgotten on the floor from the day before, stretching her back as she stood up. The long ligaments in her stomach stretched as well, relieving some of the pregnancy pressure. Beth moaned at the feeling, it felt wonderful after all the tension as of late.

“Ya alright? You look like you ain’t feeling well.” Daryl couldn’t take his eyes off Beth, the protective streak in him coming to the surface. He might not be responsible for Beth and the baby taking shape within her, but he still felt like he had to protect them.

“Yeah, I just need to stretch, things have been stressful lately. I’ll go talk to some friends of mine here and see if I can stay with them, that way you can have your house back. I’ll start packing up mine and the baby’s things once I find a place to go. I’m not going to force you to into doing something you don’t want to.” Beth breathed out, fighting back the tears that swam in her eyes at realizing she loved Daryl enough to walk away from him. Maybe he would have an epiphany and remember who she was? It was possible, at least she hoped it was.

“Look, until you find somewhere to go you can stay here. You can have the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch. Ain’t like I ain’t slept there before. I’ll see you later. Don’t worry about making dinner for me. I’ll get my own,” Daryl motioned towards Beth’s belly, “ You need to eat more than I do.”

“Okay, I guess I’ll see you later.” Beth blinked quickly, the tears rewetting her eyes.

Daryl nodded, turning towards the living room to leave. He picked up the Glock laying on the kitchen floor, one of his rifles hung above the front door, near his spare hunting pack. Picking up his supplies, Daryl headed out for the corral, saddling up the big buckskin that nickered at him, slinging up into the saddle, wincing as the sutures in his gut pulled.

“Alright big boy, we’ll get outta here for a bit. Git on.” Daryl felt the horse surge forward into a run, the small farm disappearing behind him, as the forest loomed in front of him. Hopefully in the woods, he would find answers to the questions plaguing him, and things would make more sense before he came back to his house, being kept by a stranger who claimed to be his wife. Something felt very off; it stuck to him like a cobweb, he could feel it on his skin but no matter how much he swiped at it, the feeling wouldn’t go away.


End file.
